


Maid Service

by asarcasticwitch



Series: Teen Wolf Bingo [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Beta Derek Hale, Biting, Coming Untouched, Consensual Kink, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Control, Power Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Praise Kink, Riding, Scent Marking, Top Derek Hale, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-27 11:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30122091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asarcasticwitch/pseuds/asarcasticwitch
Summary: “Does that— Is that something you like?” he asks over Stiles’ shoulder. His supernatural eyesight managing to catch a glimpse of the video's contents before Stiles can scroll upwards in a knee-jerk reaction.“Er…” Stiles flounders, mild panic rising from the pit of his stomach. “I mean, it’s pretty hot?” he says with his best attempt at a nonchalant shrug. He’s drastically downplaying his actual thoughts on the matter, unsure of the reception he’ll receive.Derek makes a face, something contemplative, before walking away, and Stiles breathes a sigh of relief, thinking that’s that.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Teen Wolf Bingo [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837195
Comments: 24
Kudos: 138
Collections: Teen Wolf Bingo





	Maid Service

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the 'Crossdressing' square on my Teen Wolf Bingo card.
> 
> It's very short, I know, but I've got a few projects on the go at the moment, and I just needed a little dirty-ish palate cleanser. This fit the bill.
> 
> Thank you again to the wonderful [Shey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shey) for beta reading. I really appreciate all the help.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

Stiles has a _thing_ for big, burly, hairy men dressed as French maids. He honestly has no idea when or _how_ he discovered that particular detail about himself—it probably happened at some point in his childhood—but after an onslaught of fifteen-second videos popped up on his ‘For You’ page on TikTok, his interest became harder to ignore. 

He’s never been more convinced that his phone is spying on him—incognito clearly isn’t that secret. 

Anyway. He’s scrolling through the app when one of those insistent thirst traps makes themselves known—just as Derek happens to be wandering by. The wolf stops dead in his tracks and makes a comment about Stiles’ scent—a rich, spicy musk wafting from him in waves. It’s thick enough to seep through layers of skin and clog up his arteries. _Apparently._

It’s a scent Derek is probably very, _very_ familiar with after the last few months, and ain’t that something? So, obviously, he wants Stiles to tell him what's causing such a reaction—especially since it’s broad daylight, and neither of them are naked. 

“Does that— Is that something you like?” he asks over Stiles’ shoulder. His supernatural eyesight managing to catch a glimpse of the video's contents before Stiles can scroll upwards in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Er…” Stiles flounders, mild panic rising from the pit of his stomach. “I mean, it’s pretty hot?” he says with his best attempt at a nonchalant shrug. He’s drastically downplaying his actual thoughts on the matter, unsure of the reception he’ll receive.

Derek makes a face, something contemplative, before walking away, and Stiles breathes a sigh of relief, thinking that’s that. No more mention of his weird and wonderful kinks.

~

A week later, Stiles comes home from work to find Derek—his incredibly attractive and wonderfully thoughtful boyfriend—sprawled out on their bed wearing an unbelievably sexy black maids dress, black knee-high stockings with frills—fucking frills—and a contrasting, white, lace-trimmed apron tied taut around his waist. And, if _that_ visual isn’t enough to have Stiles choking on thin air, when the man spreads his legs a little, the ruffled, silken skirt bunching up around his thighs, Stiles notices the layered black petticoat underneath. The wolf really spared no expense. 

Stiles can’t believe his fucking luck, and with the rate all the blood rushes from his head to his cock, it’s honestly a miracle he doesn’t pass out. His tongue and throat are dry as a desert, his mouth hanging open with no words coming out. It’s undoubtedly the best sight he’s ever laid eyes on.

Stiles doesn’t quite faceplant on his dick, but only just barely. 

They fumble through desperate kisses and greedy touches, both impatient for the main event. Stiles fingers himself open as Derek watches, scissoring two and then three digits inside his hole as he purrs his detailed intentions to the man writhing between his legs. Once he deems himself stretched enough—or at least as stretched as he has the patience for—Stiles finally sinks down on Derek’s fat, leaking cock, hardly taking any time to adjust before he starts to move. 

Stiles fucks himself on his boyfriend’s dick like a seasoned whore, moaning and shaking with pleasure as he drags it out for what feels like hours. He wants to commit to memory the view of every single inch of the unfairly gorgeous man whimpering beneath him. 

“Fuck, you look so good, Der,” he pants as he rides Derek like it’s an Olympic sport.

His hands splay over the wolf’s chest for leverage, fingers twisted into the smooth glossy material covering his pecs. His thighs burn with the effort it takes to lift himself up and drop back down at the frantic pace he’s set, but Christ, the ache is worth it.

Derek is falling apart below him, fisting the sheets and begging to come. His muscles ripple with the obvious strain of holding back his beastly instinct to rut up into the warm, slick hole. Fuck, it’s intoxicating.

And it’s all for him. 

“So beautiful,” Stiles praises, his cock jerking at the way Derek mewls sweetly with his words. 

“Stiles, please,” Derek cries out, his hands tightening their grasp, doing his best to obey Stiles’ instruction to keep still. 

“You’re so perfect, dressing up for me, letting me take what I want. . . such a good boy.” 

Derek screws his eyes closed, teeth clamping down with a force that looks painful. “Fuck, I’m close, Stiles, I-I can’t…” 

Stiles could be an asshole, could draw this out even longer than he already has, but truthfully, he’s just as desperate for release as Derek, so he decides to be merciful. _This time_. “Come on then, baby, make me come then fill me up. Give me everything you’ve got.” 

Derek’s eyelids fly open, his irises bleeding supernatural blue, fangs peeking past his lips as he grabs hold of Stiles’ hips, the pressure bruising. The tips of his claws scratch the surface of sweat-slicked skin, but the delicious sting only makes Stiles impossibly harder. 

The wolf plants his feet firmly on the mattress, using the strength in his thighs to buck up into Stiles’ body. The leverage he has on Stiles’ hips he uses to pull Stiles down to meet each punishing thrust. 

“Yes, that’s it, Der,” Stiles groans as he’s fucked rough and hard, Derek’s thick cock hammering at his prostate without finesse. The wolf is so deep inside him he swears his belly is bulging. “Feels so good.” 

The man’s muscles flex under the tight fabric, his biceps almost ripping the puffy sleeves right at the seams with how brutally he’s tensing against every forceful movement. The dress molds to his figure like a second skin, and Stiles is almost drooling with the desire burning through him right now. 

“Stiles,” Derek whimpers his name, and the raw desperation behind the word has Stiles’ orgasm barreling through him with a shocking intensity. 

He cries out, convulsing as searing hot pleasure courses through his veins. 

Derek’s claws pierce skin as he holds on, the constriction of Stiles’ hole no doubt shredding the last iota of his willpower. “ _Please_.” 

“Come for me, Der,” he coos softly, “let me feel it.” 

Derek complies, a growl tearing from his chest as he fills Stiles with his come. 

Stiles shivers at the primal sound, watching in a fuck-drunk haze as Derek’s back bows from the mattress, his head tipped back, throat bared, vulnerable and enticing. Stiles can’t stop the urge to lean forward with the last ounce of strength he has and bite into the bulging tendon, delighted when Derek’s cock pulses inside him at the action. 

Stiles clenches, grinding down filthily to milk the wolf for everything he has until he whines with the sensitivity. He releases Derek’s neck, grinning wickedly at the brief bloom of purple before it disappears. 

Derek relaxes into the bedding, limbs lax and spent as he gasps raggedly through the aftershocks.

Stiles skims his fingers through the come soaking into the pretty, sleek satin, hands moving up to Derek’s chest, over his shoulders, and down his arms, coating any sliver of bared skin in his scent. “Good boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> If I've missed any major tags, let me know.
> 
> I won't be adding to this; as I say, I just needed something short and porny to stimulate my brain between fics. I still hope you enjoyed it for what it is.
> 
> For those of you that would like a visual, [this](https://xdress.co.uk/products/mens-french-maid-dress-black) is what I'm imagining Derek wearing, but with black stockings instead of white.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr at [asarcasticwitch](http://asarcasticwitch.tumblr.com). Come and join the Peter Hale fan club. 
> 
> Thank you for reading; I will hopefully be back with something longer soon!


End file.
